In the Master's House
by shiftcommathree
Summary: What happens when Jack Sparrow's daughter is captured by slavers? Love can be found in unexpected places. Not the typical Jack's daughter fic. No, really! Rated for sexual content. Reviews would be amazing!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ This story is only loosely connected to POTC. If you are looking for a story featuring all of your favourite characters, I'm sorry, but this isn't it. However, for the careful reader, there are many references to POTC. I'd still ask you to read and review this though! I think you'd still enjoy it )

**Disclaimer: **Jack, the monkey, and the pirates aren't mine.

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_Chapter 1_

"'Ello, pretty."

I awoke to the stench of a man's hot breath on my face. I opened my eyes and drew back instantly- the guard's leering face was far too close for comfort. With that sharp movement, a wave of nausea swept over me and a sharp pain shot through my head. Gingerly, I raised my hand to my forehead, and felt the crustiness of dried blood beneath my fingers. The guard noticed my actions and smirked.

"Nothin' to worry bout there, we'll have you all cleaned up for the auction now, won't we? A pretty lass like you, a virgin to be sure, ye'll fetch a pretty penny, ye will."

Memories were rushing back to me. The acrid smell of gunpowder exploding above me, the thundering of the cannons, a man's rough grasp on my wrist, him raising his club as I pulled away… my fingers went instinctively again to the cut above my brow.

My eyes went again to the guard, still leering at me as I sought to decipher my surroundings. I was on a slaver for sure, destined for some barbaric Eastern market. There had been a battle, it seems as though we had lost…

"My family…" I whispered, not daring to think, not daring to hope.

The guard chuckled.

"Yer ship made a pretty blaze at it went down, it did. Pity there wasn't much good cargo… you were the only one worth takin' aboard."

My stomach dropped, though I hadn't expected any other answer. My father would never have let himself be taken alive while his ship went down, and my poor sister Jane with her crooked leg wouldn't be of much use as a slave.

Though my eyes burned, I refused to let the oaf watching me see me cry. There would be time for tears later. For now, I had to think, I had to plan…

Somewhere on deck, a whistle blow, and a commanding voice shouted to all the guards.

"Ten minutes until we dock! Prepare the cargo for market!"

Being referred to as cargo sickened me, but there was nothing I could do as the guard roughly handcuffed me, and then chained me to a string of other dejected prisoners, who would be sold into slavery like myself. My cheeks burned as we were herded off the ship and into the marketplace more like cattle than human beings.

The market was filled with brightly coloured stalls and booths, selling all kinds of fancy trinkets and baubles as far as the eye could see. In a different circumstance, I would have wandered a market like this one for hours, delighting in all the new and foreign objects on display.

An aroma drifted by me from a nearby stall. The vendor's cry of "Fresh loaves, just out of the oven!" made me wonder when I had eaten my last meal. Certainly not on the slaver, must have been the midday meal on the _Pearl_, with my father… Tears sprang to my eyes as I realized that I would never share a midday meal with my father and the sailors aboard our ship… That out of everyone at that meal, I was the only one still alive.

My gloom was interrupted by a sharp tug on the chain attached to my wrists. We were being led into a tent where workers would prepare us to be sold off to the highest bidder.

A harsh-looking woman unhooked me from the chain, though I remained handcuffed, and led me to a table. She then proceeded to dab at my cut with a bitter-smelling concoction. I winced at the sting, but did not dare make a sound for fear of attracting one of the many guards with the heavy, barbed whips that were prowling the tent, glaring at the prisoners menacingly. She gave me a new white robe to wear and quickly ran a brush through my hair, then sent me to stand in a group by the tent flap.

From outside, a gong sounded, and then I was harshly pushed out into the glaring sunlight. I joined a line with many other girls, dressed as I was. I watched as one by one, the other girls were sent up onto the platform to be sold.

Up by the front of the line, I noticed movement. A tall brunette girl, second in line, looked around quickly, then pushed the nearest guard, and ran into the crowd. The guard stumbled backwards, then chased after her. Several other guards joined the chase and attempted to head her off as she fled towards the open marketplace. Then, without warning, she dropped. The chaos in the slave market fell to a dead silence and drew back from a dark-skinned man in a turban. He calmly pulled his sword out of the girl, who lay already dead on the hot stone floor. He turned to the guards.

"I doing you a favour," he said in a heavy accent. "Nobody is buying of a girl who runs."

He smiled, revealing two gold-capped teeth, and resheathed his sword. Two workers from the tent silently came out, and carried the body away. The auctioneer quickly cleared his throat and attempted to bring the crowd's attention back to the sale.

"Here we have a beautiful young girl, age estimated to be around sixteen. Let's start the bidding at 1500 crowns!"

As my turn approached, I grew more and more apprehensive. The gold-toothed man kept glancing at me appraisingly, and my dread grew as I realized he was probably speculating about whether or not to bid for me. So far, he had not cast a single bid, which only added to my uneasiness. I considered running, but after seeing what happened to the other girl, I knew any attempts to escape would be futile.

After what seemed like an eternity, a guard grabbed my arm and led me up to the platform. I squinted and tried to turn my head away from the sun's blinding rays, but the guard forced me to stand straight and look forward.

"Here's an excellent buy, girl up here now, age 17, and look at that body, men!" he said with a lewd wink to the crowd. "For a lass as fine as this one here, surely I can get 2000 crowns? Yes! 2500, anyone? Yes, very good, can I hear 3000? 3000? Anyone topping 3000? All right then! Going once, going twice—"

"Ten thousand crowns." A chill crept down my spine as I recognized the accent as belonging to the man in the turban.

The auctioneer quickly endeavored to hide his shock.

"Very good! Ten- ten thousand crowns! Well then! Sold to the man in the black!"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_ Sorry this one is a bit shorter! Thanks to my (single) reviewer! You rock!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. Yet. evil laughter

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_Chapter 2_

The guard pulled me off the platform and into another tent to wait until the auction finished.

I may have waited in there for five minutes, or five hours. The time seemed to move in jumps and bursts as I tried to shut off my mind, which was making up dreadful scenarios about what it would be like to have that man as a master.

When the dark man came to get me, he also brought two other girls, a short, curvy brunette and a tall, muscular redhead. He grabbed my arm, and despite the stifling heat, I shivered.

We rode to our master's house in a covered litter, and although it was shaded, the curtains around us made it feel even hotter. Neither of the other girls would speak to me nor even make eye contact.

The carriage jarred to a stop, and the man came around and instructed us to get out. He didn't bother caution us against running. The hand he kept on the hilt of his sword said enough. He led us into a large hall and there we stood, waiting for something. The dark man came up to me and stood uncomfortably close.

"Soon it will be just the two of us, yes," he said with a smirk, and his hand on my arm began to move, traveling up my arm, to my neck, and heading down towards the neckline of the loose robe I was wearing. The whole time, I stood statue-still, not daring to move, knowing that I was now destined for a lifetime of such things.

"Greetings, Salam."

He jumped away from me, and stood at attention.

"Greetings, Master Kamal," he said quickly. "I is brought the latest purchases to you for your selection."

My stomach unclenched slightly. So this man, Salam, was not to be my master after all!

The master of the house stood before us on the steps, dressed in a tunic in rich shades of purples and red. Despite his lack of adornment- he wore only one gold armband- this man was clearly rich, possibly a noble. He scrutinized us carefully, then pointed at me.

"Her. The rest will not do."

Salam pushed me towards the master roughly. Behind me, I heard him mutter, "But he never chooses the blondes!"

I followed my new master up the stairs, and he indicated a room into which I was to enter. Once I was inside, a plump, matronly woman instructed me to bathe immediately. I followed her directions, and then re-entered the room.

Laid out on the bed was a gauzy golden tunic. I went to it immediately, for it was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen in my life, having grown up on a ship.

"Tsk tsk, 'tis not yet time for that," the woman scolded as she redirected me to a chair. She painted my eyes with kohl and my cheeks with rouge, then went to work on brushing my hair.

"Odd, odd, very odd," she murmured to herself as she brushed. "He never picks the blondes."

My curiosity overcame my common sense at the point.

"You're the second person to say that. What does he have against blondes?" I asked.

I regretted it immediately. The woman's face darkened and twisted into a scowl.

"Your job here is not to ask questions. You are here to satisfy the master's every demand until he tires of you and moves onto the next girl. You are a slave, to be purchased and discarded on a whim. Do not go inquiring into things which do not concern you!"

I fell silent at once and let her finish readying me without a word.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N:_ yawn I'm up way too late, but I wanted to post this chapter tonight because I'm gonna be away this weekend. To my reviewers- you are all amazing )

**Warning: Chapter is rated M for sexual content.**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my own strange imagination.

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_Chapter 3_

A knock on the door signaled my time to go. I rose, the beautiful golden fabric cascading around me, and followed the foot servant down to an enormous room. The master was seated in a large chair in the center. The servant bowed, then closed the door and left us alone.

I took a moment to glance around. Beside the plush chair the master was seated in were two other chairs, and a glass table covered in various scrolls. There was also a desk with many strange instruments on it, and a large canopy bed by the wall. On the furthest side of the room, there was a door leading onto a balcony.

"Come, sit." He gestured to the chair next to him, and I obeyed.

"Tell me, what is your name?"

"I am Ana, master."

"You may call me Kamal, Ana. Now, I am feeling patient tonight. Tell me about yourself."

I speak quietly, not meeting his eyes, for fear of a backlash like the one I got from the woman who dressed me.

"I am a female slave here for your company and pleasure."

He laughs, a surprisingly warm sound.

"I know that! Before that! What were you before?"

I cautiously meet his eyes, and see honest curiosity, so I dare begin my story.

"I grew up on a ship-"

"A ship?" he interrupts. "Like a pirate ship?"

His boyish enthusiasm for my story encouraged me.

"Not exactly like a navy ship, and not exactly like a merchant ship either, if you know what I mean…"

His excitement was catching, and soon I was regaling him with tales about my father's famous deeds, and our crew's antics. The escapades of Jack, our ship's monkey, had him bent double with laughter. I found myself forgetting the more-than-twenty-year difference in our ages as he begged me for more.

Time was forgotten until a servant knocked, and entered to light the candles around the room. When he left, I remembered what I was there for, and so did he. He bid me follow him to the bed, and I sat awkwardly on the side. He leaned toward me, then stopped.

"Do you- have you-?"

I shook my head in response.

"I see. Then for tonight, I will take charge."

He moved closer to me, and began to kiss the side of my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. His warm hands grasped my waist as he eased me gently onto my back. I felt wrong, just lying still, so I moved to kiss him, but he pulled back. He placed my arms around him, my hands on his back, and returned to kissing my neck. He paused again to untie my tunic, and I again tried to kiss him, this time on his neck like he was doing to me. He allowed me, and let out a soft moan. My body was lifted away from the bed as he fully removed the dress I was wearing. Now his kisses travel lower. It was my turn to gasp as he began to kiss and suck on one breast, then the other. I slid my hands beneath his shirt, pushing it off him, and explored the firm muscles of his chest. I was amazed by how toned he was for a man of almost forty.

I thought I knew what I was supposed to do next, so I moved my hands lower, slid off his trousers, and found the hard shaft of his erection. He stopped what he's doing, and moved my hands away.

"Another night," he whispered, and pressed another kiss against my neck.

Then I let out a sharp gasp, for I felt his hand move closer to my entrance. A moan- he slipped one finger inside, then two. Then I couldn't tell anymore because he started to move inside me, and my body began to tighten in a way I'd never felt before. A little longer, and I snapped, flying over the edge and I heard someone moaning and could that be me?

When I came back, he was above me, his lips at my neck, and I felt something larger and harder near my entrance that I knew was not his finger.

"I'm sorry," he breathed and I didn't know why until he began to enter me, and it hurt so bad but I could feel myself tightening around him again, and I heard two people moaning, then he thrust deeper and harder, again and again, and somewhere behind the pain there was pleasure too and I felt myself spasm and then a hot rush inside me and he's hollering too and then we're both there lying sweaty on his rumpled sheets. A few minutes of just lying, breathing deeply, and then he sat up.

"You can go now."

I sat up and I remembered what I was doing there and I tried to pretend I never forgot.

"Yes, Master." I rose to leave but he grabbed my wrist.

"You can still call me Kamal."

I bowed my head to him, then I self-consciously refastened my tunic around me and stepped silently into the hallway. The foot servant returned to lead me through a labyrinth of corridors to my room where I fell almost instantly into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N_: I'm updating earlier than I had planned so I can tell anyone who's reading this some important news! JK Rowling has been nominated for Time's most influential person! Go here to rate her as a 100!: 77 times for Book 7, baybee!

(PS- Sorry this chapter is pretty short, longer ones are coming up...)

**Disclaimer:** Do I own PotC? Only in my dreams... like this really weird one once... Norrington had long straight blonde hair...?

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Chapter 4_

When I awoke the next morning, I was told that I was free to do as I please around the palace, for that's what the building is, but I was not permitted to leave. As always, I was very curious, so I tried to find out anything I could about this place and its mysteries. This was more difficult than it sounds. No one of reputation wanted to be seen around the master's new slave girl, let alone actually speak to her.

My salvation came in the form of Lia, a plump and friendly servant who mainly worked in the kitchen. She was fifteen, two years my junior, but out of everyone in the palace, she alone was glad to speak with me. Luckily, she was one of those people who knew all the gossip as soon as it happened, and sometimes it seems even before it happened! She told me anything I needed to know about the palace and the people in it.

"The master? Oh, he's a second cousin to the king, makes him rather important, of course. Why do you think he's got such a splendid place?"

"Yes, Lia, but what about him personally?"

Her cheerful demeanor darkened a bit.

"Folks in my position don't know anything worth sayin', and anything we do know ain't worth losing my job over," she replied, and clammed up.

I wasn't put off for long, however.

"What about Salam? What can you tell me about him?"

With that, her eyes lit up and she began to talk at high-speed again.

"That Salam, he's no good through and through. All the girls the master don't want, he gets 'em. And let me tell you, he's not a good one to have you, not a bit. He's rough on his women, he is, and not just his. Have you seen the scars on his back? He got flogged near to death for raping one of the master's whor- lady friends, I mean." She glanced at me apologetically.

After talking with her for a few weeks, I dared to ask her the dangerous question.

"What does the master have against blondes?"

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head.

"Five years ago," she whispered, "The master swore that anyone speaking of such things would be executed on the spot. Mind you never speak of that again!"

The nights remained mainly the same as the first night. I would go to his room, we would sit together as I told him tales of my life on the _Pearl_, and then I would do my job. As the days went by, he became less careful with me, and he let me touch him more than he did that first night. Still, we did not kiss on the lips.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N_: Sorry this one took longer to get out, I've been busy. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** If PotC was mine, I wouldn't be here writing fanfics._

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_Chapter 5_

One morning, after I had been at the palace for a fortnight, I went to chat with Lia in our usual spot, but she was not there. I looked all over the palace, but she was nowhere to be found! Finally, I found her in the first place I should have looked- my friend the kitchen maid was in the kitchen. For once, she was too busy to talk to me.

"I'm terribly sorry, Ana, but Cook is in a frenzy today! Lady Jasmine, the queen's sister has come to call and we need to make a splendid feast. She comes this time every year to try to woo him, he's awfully rich and since the mistress-" She froze. "I've said too much. I'll try to find you later, when it's less busy here!"

For the rest of the day, I wandered the palace, pondering what Lia let slip about a mistress. Could she be Kamal's wife? Certainly not, if this Lady Jasmine was coming to woo him… There was some mystery in this palace, I was sure of it.

That night, when I went to his rooms, Kamal was different. He still began our conversation with "I am patient tonight," but he was clearly less than usual, for after only one story, we moved to the bed. He was harder and fiercer than he'd ever been, though never nearing what would be considered rough.

The next day, Lady Jasmine arrived. From the second she stepped down from her elaborately decorated litter, I distrusted her. She filled the courtyard with the scent of her sickly sweet perfume and she wore enough jewelry to gild the entire palace.

I was not called to his room that night.

The next night, I was called to him later than usual, and the corridor leading up to his room smelled of Lady Jasmine's intense perfume. When I entered, he was standing by the door, waiting, and pulled me to him at once.

"I am not patient tonight," he growled as he pinned me to the wall. For a moment, he moved towards me and I thought he was going to kiss my lips, but then he lowered his lips to the pulse point on my neck. Soon, he was fumbling at the ties of my tunic and it quickly fell away. I wrapped my legs around him and his strong arms lifted me and carried me to the bed. I could sense his need tonight.

He broke away from me only for a moment to pull off his shirt and let his trousers fall to the floor. Then he was back on top of me, placing a wet trail of kisses down my body, until he reached my center. Then slowly, deliberately, he inserted his tongue between my folds and began to pleasure me until I was screaming his name. Right before I was over the edge, he drew away with a naughty smile. At that moment, I could care less that he owned me. I called him every rude name I had learned in my seventeen years aboard a pirate ship.

He waited for me to finish, then laughed, and entered me with one deep stroke, and I was screaming again, and I was over the edge, shouting his name as he continued to thrust inside me, and at last his hot seed spilled within me and I was lying on his chest as we both caught our breath. After a moment, I realized how intimate I was being, and got up to put my tunic back on. Before I could move away, he pulled me back down with him and simply said, "Stay."

I lay with him, growing drowsier, and when my eyes closed, I heard him speak softly.

"It's stupid. I missed you, you know. Last night. She was- nothing is- I wanted you. I'd rather hear stories about pirates than the who's who of the king's court. I'd just rather have you here. And she knows. When I sent her away tonight, I called for you instead. She's probably left in a huff by now." He laughs. "She's a harpy. Smells like one too. Just don't tell her I said that, not like you're listening. It's nice to talk to people who are asleep."

I kept my eyes closed and my breathing even as he pulled me closer against him. Feather-light, he laid a kiss on my forehead. Then he shook me gently to wake me up.

"You should go back to your room now."

I nodded, pulled on my tunic, and left. My bed felt horribly cold that night.


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